Sheena traveled home with Sheena-themed containers scored by Cheek at Ikea; I wonder what's inside them now?
It's "Sheena" style that should be celebrated, never feared:
From Natalie Dee
Showing posts with label pics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pics. Show all posts
15 April 2008
Sheena's Style is Catching
It already seems too long ago that Sheena visited Hotlanta for Cheek's f*ck forty festivities. Supporting Sheena's thwarted Target fetish (they ain't got no Targets in Canuckland) yielded a Sheena-inspired decorative item now hanging chez Cheek:
Sheena traveled home with Sheena-themed containers scored by Cheek at Ikea; I wonder what's inside them now?
It's "Sheena" style that should be celebrated, never feared:
From Natalie Dee
Sheena traveled home with Sheena-themed containers scored by Cheek at Ikea; I wonder what's inside them now?
It's "Sheena" style that should be celebrated, never feared:
From Natalie Dee
12 January 2008
11 January 2008
Starting off a New Year
Whitenoise keeps pestering for nekkid snaps. Does this one of my New Year's toes in FloridaDad's TajMahTub count?
Found a ridiculous calendar that tickles me silly: "Veggies Gone Wild! Produce Behaving Badly". Here's January:
Found a ridiculous calendar that tickles me silly: "Veggies Gone Wild! Produce Behaving Badly". Here's January:
A Country Holiday
Been busy hithering and thithering throughout the South. Remiss in posting these snaps from my country holiday in Yanceyville.
Cousin Lee set an elegant table. Only after dinner did he note that we looked at reindeer bums throughout the meal.
I really liked Lee's Santa, and Santa's blue ball.
CarolinaMom has guests in her back "yard".
The neighbor's barn at sunset.
Cousin Lee set an elegant table. Only after dinner did he note that we looked at reindeer bums throughout the meal.
I really liked Lee's Santa, and Santa's blue ball.
CarolinaMom has guests in her back "yard".
The neighbor's barn at sunset.
31 October 2007
Boo!
There are some freaky Delta folks in costumes here at ORD. The most I could manage was what I came with: my Halloween-blinged nails and toes.
Won't be home in time for trick-or-treating - dang.
From Stephan Pastis' Pearls Before Swine
From Tony Carillo's F MinusI wonder if Pid will be dressing up, Nacho Libre style, as he did during a recent Atlanta visit. Inquiring minds want to know.
06 September 2007
Brefkast Yummies
Made broccoli and spinach quiches for frozen future brefkast offerings for my FloridaFolks, but my favorite consumption during the visit was french toast with bananas and blueberries, bacon, and homemade blueberry syrup, enjoyed on their lovely front patio. I've illusions of one day having a bed & breakfast - would this meal float your boat?
04 September 2007
Sheena's Peaches
As previously attested, Sheena's Peaches are amazing. Lucious. Juicy. Rosemary softly permeating creamy vanilla goodness. I promised to do her peaches soon.
This week I walked the talk and did 'em not once, but twice (alas, not in Sheena's company). First as a test drive with my folks and then again when we dined with a friend in Viera. Lesson learned: use only ripe peaches, as the firm ones will blacken up before they get soft enough. 4 minutes each side at 400 degrees.
Yum.
Sheena's Rosemary Peaches
This week I walked the talk and did 'em not once, but twice (alas, not in Sheena's company). First as a test drive with my folks and then again when we dined with a friend in Viera. Lesson learned: use only ripe peaches, as the firm ones will blacken up before they get soft enough. 4 minutes each side at 400 degrees.
Yum.
Sheena's Rosemary Peaches
Getting Pruny
One of my favorite things to do when visiting FloridaDad and SWEJudy is bubblelicious lollygagging in the TajMahTub. FloridaDad carefully selected a bathing venue that would accommodate his 6'4" frame, and it handily fits my 34" legspan.
Filling the tub drains every drop in their hot water heater. I've enough bubble source for one more offering before heading home tomorrow. Summer's heat be damned, I don't pass up the TajMahTub!
Filling the tub drains every drop in their hot water heater. I've enough bubble source for one more offering before heading home tomorrow. Summer's heat be damned, I don't pass up the TajMahTub!
13 August 2007
A Sheena Sojourn
10 Things from My Visit with Sheena:
10. Sleeping quarters have more than a touch of her new home, but of Sheena's history, too. The quilt includes scraps of clothing from her family when Sheena was little. Who couldn't sleep comfyly ensconced in that kind of love and history?
9. Sheena has a fabulous snap of her courtyard, but I can personally attest that having a yumfest breafkast catered by the Jungle Queen herself on that same courtyard, basking in the warm summer sun is nothing less than luxurious.
8. Moseying to the many Mennonite-carriaged town of St. Jacobs yielded a bit o' Cheek's own history, in the form of Tavener's Fruit Drops. My maternal Grandma always had 'em in her parlor. Remember parlors? The town also led me to question - how is it that you can't get an ice cream float that's made with beer? Surely someone in this universe makes a Guinness float?
7. Excellent silver jewelry finds at Casa Latina. Sheena thought hard about the spiral necklace, but I'm glad it went home with me. Dunno what's up with me and basic shapes lately, but they're callin' my name.
6. Sheena's sunporch is the best room inside the house. I think I'd replace her chairs (albeit comfy) and table with a daybed and prop myself up to work, people watch, and snooze when time affords. No pic snapped, but watch Sheena's space - I'm sure she'll indulge us soon.
5. Libations - making and quaffing - are one of Sheena's specialties. Granted, she has many. But as her guests arrived she plied them with offerings of homemade sangria and her signature rosemary mojito. Yummilicious! As we segued from indoors to the Jungle Queen's Courtyard, she kept us wet with local juice: Flat Rock Cellars' 2004 Pinot Noir and their 2006 Riesling. (Bonus! Sheena's gams in the back as she tended the BBQ.)
4. Sheena's box is *so* fine. She tried to discount her box, saying it was old, used, and had none of the new fangled features of today's boxes. But her vintage box was just the trick, I tell you. For I didn't mind it missing the slender opening to receive last season's (century's?) input. What I grooved on was her box's ability to take digital stimulation and share it with our whole party. You know - RCA jacks so I could hook up my cable and play my iPod for party tunage? What were *you* thinking I meant?
3. Reading Sheena's blog about her cooking chops *so* pales to receiving her bounty in person. Yellow corn. Veggies seasoned with rosemary and olive oil. Chicken. Simple, and sumptuous. Summer never looked or tasted so good.
2. I'd have never thunk of grilling peaches, much less peaches kissed with rosemary and served with vanilla ice cream. But we know my food universe is small. Thank goodness I've a peep like Sheena to expand it, with rosemary was her unifying theme of the evening. Grilled fruit is so on my list o' thangs to repeat offend.
1. My stay was too brief. Sheena's gravity wraps you up in quilted, relaxed, tasty revelry. I hope I'm invited back soon.
10. Sleeping quarters have more than a touch of her new home, but of Sheena's history, too. The quilt includes scraps of clothing from her family when Sheena was little. Who couldn't sleep comfyly ensconced in that kind of love and history?
9. Sheena has a fabulous snap of her courtyard, but I can personally attest that having a yumfest breafkast catered by the Jungle Queen herself on that same courtyard, basking in the warm summer sun is nothing less than luxurious.
8. Moseying to the many Mennonite-carriaged town of St. Jacobs yielded a bit o' Cheek's own history, in the form of Tavener's Fruit Drops. My maternal Grandma always had 'em in her parlor. Remember parlors? The town also led me to question - how is it that you can't get an ice cream float that's made with beer? Surely someone in this universe makes a Guinness float?
7. Excellent silver jewelry finds at Casa Latina. Sheena thought hard about the spiral necklace, but I'm glad it went home with me. Dunno what's up with me and basic shapes lately, but they're callin' my name.
6. Sheena's sunporch is the best room inside the house. I think I'd replace her chairs (albeit comfy) and table with a daybed and prop myself up to work, people watch, and snooze when time affords. No pic snapped, but watch Sheena's space - I'm sure she'll indulge us soon.
5. Libations - making and quaffing - are one of Sheena's specialties. Granted, she has many. But as her guests arrived she plied them with offerings of homemade sangria and her signature rosemary mojito. Yummilicious! As we segued from indoors to the Jungle Queen's Courtyard, she kept us wet with local juice: Flat Rock Cellars' 2004 Pinot Noir and their 2006 Riesling. (Bonus! Sheena's gams in the back as she tended the BBQ.)
4. Sheena's box is *so* fine. She tried to discount her box, saying it was old, used, and had none of the new fangled features of today's boxes. But her vintage box was just the trick, I tell you. For I didn't mind it missing the slender opening to receive last season's (century's?) input. What I grooved on was her box's ability to take digital stimulation and share it with our whole party. You know - RCA jacks so I could hook up my cable and play my iPod for party tunage? What were *you* thinking I meant?
3. Reading Sheena's blog about her cooking chops *so* pales to receiving her bounty in person. Yellow corn. Veggies seasoned with rosemary and olive oil. Chicken. Simple, and sumptuous. Summer never looked or tasted so good.
2. I'd have never thunk of grilling peaches, much less peaches kissed with rosemary and served with vanilla ice cream. But we know my food universe is small. Thank goodness I've a peep like Sheena to expand it, with rosemary was her unifying theme of the evening. Grilled fruit is so on my list o' thangs to repeat offend.
1. My stay was too brief. Sheena's gravity wraps you up in quilted, relaxed, tasty revelry. I hope I'm invited back soon.
12 August 2007
Good Peeps. Good Eats.
FloridaDad and his bride SWE-Judy visited last week, up to catch the band and to see our shared crack dealer (= chiropractor / podiatrist one stop shopping). Company coming to visit means my place gets clean. Not that I live in filth without an audience, but the place gets down right spiffy when it knows it’s going to be shared. I’m a fan of spiffy.
But two retired engineers coming to visit also means they’re accomplished honey do-ers. And wow, did they do.
1. Ikea wardrobe interior guts assembly: check.
2. Visit to Ikea to replace a drawer that came with wrong parts: check.
3. No complaining when I pick up more stuff at Ikea that results in more honey-doing: check.
4. Pictures hung in my bedroom: check. Downstairs half bath mirror installation: check.
5. Dining room light fixture installation: check.
And not a single PF! moment – though the light fixture installation came awfully close to invoking one.
Had the band and some peeps over before our performance last Saturday night. Had one of those moments where your parents tell stories with glee that are meant to embarrass. For my sister’s sixteenth birthday, we all got dolled up and went to a fancy-schmancy French restaurant, La Guingette. They all ordered their gastronomic delights, while twelve-year old me sat fiddlef*cking around with the bread and butter. I was one picky ass-eater as an urchin, I tell you wot. As we left the restaurant, my Dad acquiesced to my hunger complaints and went through the Roy Rogers drive thru to get me fries. Had I not had a food revolution thanks to FloridaDad and SWE-Judy’s long stay last summer, I might have been embarrassed in the telling. But listening to him fondly regale a tale of Cheek picky-ness – sorry, particularness – was easier to swallow knowing that I now will swallow so much more. So to speak.
The gig that night was great – our best yet, methought. Kimplicated, my concert consort, reported that each time she hears us, we’ve a tighter sound. We played until just after 1 and tho’ my folks stayed to the end, I ‘spected to find ‘em long abed by the time I got home. We stayed up another hour and slept in until noon. They’d certainly earned their rest with all their honey-doing. For retired folks on vacation, they shore did work their fannies off while visiting me. Strange thing is, they didn’t seem to mind at’all. They’re project people at home; guess they’re project people wherever they go.
I kept them both plied with good food and drink to reward their efforts, but I didn’t come close to remuneration the size of my gratitude. We splurged against any semblance of self control when I took ‘em to Huey’s in midtown for brunch on Sunday. Beignets as hors-d’oeuvres. Dad, the crab eggs hollandaise. Judy, the asparagus mushroom omelette. Me, the pain perdue with strawberries and pecan honey butter. And of course, you can’t go to Huey’s without stopping by next door to visit the birds at R. Thomas.
Sunday afternoon found us at Pjayamamama’s place, where they plied us with Frogtown Vineyard fruits and fantastic Scooby snacks as arranged by Sir Alex.
One of her church friends came by and joined us as her urchins frolicked in Pjayamama’s pool. I could have listened to her South African lilt *all day*. What is it about accents that so tickles my fancy? Departing Pjayamamama's neighborhood, we spied THE largest hydrangea bush I've ever seen. Wow.
Good peeps. Good eats. Good music. Good times. Good times.
But two retired engineers coming to visit also means they’re accomplished honey do-ers. And wow, did they do.
1. Ikea wardrobe interior guts assembly: check.
2. Visit to Ikea to replace a drawer that came with wrong parts: check.
3. No complaining when I pick up more stuff at Ikea that results in more honey-doing: check.
4. Pictures hung in my bedroom: check. Downstairs half bath mirror installation: check.
5. Dining room light fixture installation: check.
And not a single PF! moment – though the light fixture installation came awfully close to invoking one.
Had the band and some peeps over before our performance last Saturday night. Had one of those moments where your parents tell stories with glee that are meant to embarrass. For my sister’s sixteenth birthday, we all got dolled up and went to a fancy-schmancy French restaurant, La Guingette. They all ordered their gastronomic delights, while twelve-year old me sat fiddlef*cking around with the bread and butter. I was one picky ass-eater as an urchin, I tell you wot. As we left the restaurant, my Dad acquiesced to my hunger complaints and went through the Roy Rogers drive thru to get me fries. Had I not had a food revolution thanks to FloridaDad and SWE-Judy’s long stay last summer, I might have been embarrassed in the telling. But listening to him fondly regale a tale of Cheek picky-ness – sorry, particularness – was easier to swallow knowing that I now will swallow so much more. So to speak.
The gig that night was great – our best yet, methought. Kimplicated, my concert consort, reported that each time she hears us, we’ve a tighter sound. We played until just after 1 and tho’ my folks stayed to the end, I ‘spected to find ‘em long abed by the time I got home. We stayed up another hour and slept in until noon. They’d certainly earned their rest with all their honey-doing. For retired folks on vacation, they shore did work their fannies off while visiting me. Strange thing is, they didn’t seem to mind at’all. They’re project people at home; guess they’re project people wherever they go.
I kept them both plied with good food and drink to reward their efforts, but I didn’t come close to remuneration the size of my gratitude. We splurged against any semblance of self control when I took ‘em to Huey’s in midtown for brunch on Sunday. Beignets as hors-d’oeuvres. Dad, the crab eggs hollandaise. Judy, the asparagus mushroom omelette. Me, the pain perdue with strawberries and pecan honey butter. And of course, you can’t go to Huey’s without stopping by next door to visit the birds at R. Thomas.
Sunday afternoon found us at Pjayamamama’s place, where they plied us with Frogtown Vineyard fruits and fantastic Scooby snacks as arranged by Sir Alex.
One of her church friends came by and joined us as her urchins frolicked in Pjayamama’s pool. I could have listened to her South African lilt *all day*. What is it about accents that so tickles my fancy? Departing Pjayamamama's neighborhood, we spied THE largest hydrangea bush I've ever seen. Wow.
Good peeps. Good eats. Good music. Good times. Good times.
My Girl
Koko came for a visit last week. I’ve been in deliberate denial about how much I’ve missed her. The boys – Oscar and Stuey – are great cuddlemuffins, and I love them dearly. But Koko is exceptional. One of those rare creatures that “gets” you, weaves herself around your heart, sleeps on you and protests when you have the brazen audacity to move ‘n’ stuff. Oscar may spoon me, but sleeping with Koko is sweeter.
But sleeping with Koko is always on her terms. She’ll be peacefully slumbering, half on me and half on the pillow I hug, and Stuey will come to join the pile. She’ll start cleaning him. He’ll start cleaning her back. He looks at her wrong. Or breathes wrong. Or whatever. Then shit. Piss. The fight is ON! I know – women can be so fickle. I’ll wake in the wee small hours to feline smack down. Koko’s wet hisses join in chorus with Stuey’s loud calls that sound like he’s on fire.
She’s back at home with the Swede, but it was awful swell to have her sojourn with me for a spell.
But sleeping with Koko is always on her terms. She’ll be peacefully slumbering, half on me and half on the pillow I hug, and Stuey will come to join the pile. She’ll start cleaning him. He’ll start cleaning her back. He looks at her wrong. Or breathes wrong. Or whatever. Then shit. Piss. The fight is ON! I know – women can be so fickle. I’ll wake in the wee small hours to feline smack down. Koko’s wet hisses join in chorus with Stuey’s loud calls that sound like he’s on fire.
She’s back at home with the Swede, but it was awful swell to have her sojourn with me for a spell.
31 July 2007
F*ck F*rty
Many CheekPeeps have gone not so gently into that good night of over the 40 hill land. Swiftly approaching it myself, I'm finding the horse's ass celebrations intensifying in revelry.
Mid-July found Kimplicated, *the* original concert consort, in horse's ass goodness. We managed to surprise her with a brunch on Ponce, augmented with Maggiano's cheesecake. Yum.
Kimplicated kidnappery then ensued to the Emory Conference Center, replete with Frank Lloyd Wright goodness and massage appointments for all. The massage terrorist hurt so good!
Dinner found us making our mosey to the square in Decatur, with the title shot snapped in the pay parking lot.
Had hoped for a francophilian supper at Cafe Alsace, but they were sold out for the holiday n' stuff. Second fiddle Thai knoshing didn't suck, with dessert next door at Sage. Finished the night with a lesson in darts in the lounge.
Hooray for Kimplicated! Hooray at last! Hooray for Kimplicated, she's a horse's ass!
Mid-July found Kimplicated, *the* original concert consort, in horse's ass goodness. We managed to surprise her with a brunch on Ponce, augmented with Maggiano's cheesecake. Yum.
Kimplicated kidnappery then ensued to the Emory Conference Center, replete with Frank Lloyd Wright goodness and massage appointments for all. The massage terrorist hurt so good!Dinner found us making our mosey to the square in Decatur, with the title shot snapped in the pay parking lot.
Had hoped for a francophilian supper at Cafe Alsace, but they were sold out for the holiday n' stuff. Second fiddle Thai knoshing didn't suck, with dessert next door at Sage. Finished the night with a lesson in darts in the lounge.Hooray for Kimplicated! Hooray at last! Hooray for Kimplicated, she's a horse's ass!
30 July 2007
Favorite Places. And sucking.
Visited CarolinaMom last week. She's called Yanceyville home for some 16 years. Each time I'm there, I wonder why it's been so long between visits.
The air is cleaner. The sky is bluer. The night sky yields more stars.
If you're ever driving through Yanceyville on 158, be sure to stop and have a bite at the Redneck Riviera (a.k.a., the diner counter at the Texaco). Their bacon sandwich is the bee's knees. Joined CarolinaMom for breakfast Friday morning with two of her exercise buddies. Mo blew me away - spry as all get out, clear eyed and level headed. You'd never know she was 81, had open heart surgery two years ago, or that after her husband died she decided to fulfill a lifelong dream and restore an old house. Girl's got game *and* gumption. Goin' ON!
We then moseyed on over to Chapel Hill to visit one of our shared guilty pleasures and druther place that does not completely suck: A Southern Season. Lunch in the café is required so as minimize the take home of well gotten booty. Incredible tea and wine selections. My favorite scores this trip were Illume candles, a deep dish pie plate, and Vosges chocolate bars (DancingSpice turned me on to Vosges years back). Bacon in chocolate is a challenge I whole heartedly accept - will report when consumed. Mo's son makes the sauce in the picture.
Friday night found us at the Yancey House for a Texas Hold 'Em event. Not just a local yocals affair, mind you, but an official satellite tourney feeding the world series of poker in Vegas.
As an urchin, my parents thought I had great luck at cards and often joked of staking me for Vegas. Guess it was beginner's luck, cuz dood. I suck. I didn't suck quite well enough to be the first out, missing the $25 loser's gift certificate. I was second out. But it afforded me the chance to take some great snaps of the old tobacco barn on the property, before and after the sun set.
Saturday afternoon found us on the other side of Caswell County for one of CarolinaMom's choir gigs - a 75th surprise birthday bash. All was well and good until we decided to leave before cake cutting. Car key nowhere to be found. AAA's response was 2 hours, so the choir ladies circled their wagons and got Mom back home to get another key. Good news: we stayed for cake. Bad news: the car key is *still* effing missing. High we searched. Low we searched. They asked twice if the birthday boy should sort through the garbage. Now we know the answer to the question, "How many people with ADD does it take to lose car keys?" Dood. I suck again. And not in a good way.
Last bit of suckage came with the realization that my cell phone does, in fact, work in Yanceyville. My Canada Day peeps had pointed out changing my roaming mode from *provider who shall be nameless* to *automagic*, and dayum if coverage wasn't granted. Same thang in Yanceyville. No EVDO, but phone worked. How lame I am not to have figgered it out before. I can show my ma how to become a DVR addict. I can do a wee bit o' tech support on her 'puter to fix a Windows application association snafu. But I can't figger out my own phone.
I don't have to know everything. I just have to know others who know what I don't. Good thing I've got those Canada Day peeps in my bag!
The air is cleaner. The sky is bluer. The night sky yields more stars.
If you're ever driving through Yanceyville on 158, be sure to stop and have a bite at the Redneck Riviera (a.k.a., the diner counter at the Texaco). Their bacon sandwich is the bee's knees. Joined CarolinaMom for breakfast Friday morning with two of her exercise buddies. Mo blew me away - spry as all get out, clear eyed and level headed. You'd never know she was 81, had open heart surgery two years ago, or that after her husband died she decided to fulfill a lifelong dream and restore an old house. Girl's got game *and* gumption. Goin' ON!
We then moseyed on over to Chapel Hill to visit one of our shared guilty pleasures and druther place that does not completely suck: A Southern Season. Lunch in the café is required so as minimize the take home of well gotten booty. Incredible tea and wine selections. My favorite scores this trip were Illume candles, a deep dish pie plate, and Vosges chocolate bars (DancingSpice turned me on to Vosges years back). Bacon in chocolate is a challenge I whole heartedly accept - will report when consumed. Mo's son makes the sauce in the picture.
Friday night found us at the Yancey House for a Texas Hold 'Em event. Not just a local yocals affair, mind you, but an official satellite tourney feeding the world series of poker in Vegas.
As an urchin, my parents thought I had great luck at cards and often joked of staking me for Vegas. Guess it was beginner's luck, cuz dood. I suck. I didn't suck quite well enough to be the first out, missing the $25 loser's gift certificate. I was second out. But it afforded me the chance to take some great snaps of the old tobacco barn on the property, before and after the sun set.
Saturday afternoon found us on the other side of Caswell County for one of CarolinaMom's choir gigs - a 75th surprise birthday bash. All was well and good until we decided to leave before cake cutting. Car key nowhere to be found. AAA's response was 2 hours, so the choir ladies circled their wagons and got Mom back home to get another key. Good news: we stayed for cake. Bad news: the car key is *still* effing missing. High we searched. Low we searched. They asked twice if the birthday boy should sort through the garbage. Now we know the answer to the question, "How many people with ADD does it take to lose car keys?" Dood. I suck again. And not in a good way.
Last bit of suckage came with the realization that my cell phone does, in fact, work in Yanceyville. My Canada Day peeps had pointed out changing my roaming mode from *provider who shall be nameless* to *automagic*, and dayum if coverage wasn't granted. Same thang in Yanceyville. No EVDO, but phone worked. How lame I am not to have figgered it out before. I can show my ma how to become a DVR addict. I can do a wee bit o' tech support on her 'puter to fix a Windows application association snafu. But I can't figger out my own phone.
I don't have to know everything. I just have to know others who know what I don't. Good thing I've got those Canada Day peeps in my bag!
27 June 2007
If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad
Will soon get pediblinged for the holiday. What holiday, say you? Yankee Doodle Damn Dandy day, natch! Won't be with FloridaDad as I was last year. Bummer.
But my last toe bling will be sad to give up. Noonday bluish toes with pretty flowers. Not very sophisticated, but I'm not the sophisticated type. I'm more of the southern broad, literati chick type. On a good day.
But my blue toes make me happy. I think they'll be back soon.
But my last toe bling will be sad to give up. Noonday bluish toes with pretty flowers. Not very sophisticated, but I'm not the sophisticated type. I'm more of the southern broad, literati chick type. On a good day.
But my blue toes make me happy. I think they'll be back soon.
27 March 2007
More Sprungage: Dogwoods!
Dogwood trees are in full bloom. While I like the pink ones, their petals are smaller and less abundant. Below is the largest dogwood I've ever seen, and lives a mile away in the CheekHood.
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